


The Box

by DeconstructedIronhide (InsertCoolName), Omicron_The_IceQueen



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Space Grandpa, all the cutes in the world, cutes, face cuddles, you're teeth will rot from this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 12:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16702897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertCoolName/pseuds/DeconstructedIronhide, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omicron_The_IceQueen/pseuds/Omicron_The_IceQueen
Summary: “It doesn’t have to be a creation day or birth day to give a present,“ Small arms wrapped around the poking digit, grinning.





	The Box

Ironhide gets another box! There were no Insecticons this time inside, nor any latches but a few [dozen packs] of dollar store bows around. There is someone trying really, really hard not to giggle inside, hugging a large backpack with something else inside. 

Ironhide can  _ hear _ Annabelle breathing. He can hear her trying not to laugh.

He looks down at the box with a fondly amused smirk and reaches out a pede to push at it a bit. Not hard, just too gently slide it a few inches away like he was nudging at it in curiosity.

Welp,  _ now _ the box was giggling, and squeaking. More so after the box was moved, Annabelle was having the best of times it seemed in her box. It was just big enough for an adult human to sit in too, looking like a shipping crate really. Someone had to have helped the girl get it to Ironhide, and modified the lid with a hinge on one side. The mass assortments of bows were from the girl completely, but not too hard to not squishing them if Ironhide picked the box, and girl up.

Nearly biting his glossa to keep himself from laughing as well, Ironhide kneels down to pick at the bows, the ruffling sound it creates perfect for making it as if he was searching for a tag; “I wonder who this is from,” he muses allowed when he can’t find any. “I suppose I better take it in and open it, huh?”

His smirk having morphed into a full grin, Ironhide very,  _ very _ carefully picks up the crate with both servos and carries it into the building.

There was a faint sound, a half scramble that Ironhide could feel as Annabelle had to brace herself automatically against the movement. Doing so she found something that was not supposed to be inside with her. The girl had to wait until the box was placed down again, only then could the girl would lift the lid just enough to pop out a ‘tag’ like card. Made extra big, but not gigantic so it was the rough equivalent of a tag to a mech’s size scale. With ‘Grandpa,’ writing out in English on one side, and the mechs own name glyph on the other side, though someone might have helped again by just doing an outline of the glyphs and let Annabelle color it in.

The skittering Ironhide can feel from inside the box is making not laughing an even more difficult task, but he manages, masking a huff of an amusement as one of general complaint. After a short time he sets the crate down and pokes at it again before taking a step back, just to see what happened.

He comes  _ so close _ to losing it at the tag that gets dropped out the side of the box.  _ So close. _

His curiosity finally getting the better of him, he lifts the lid a teeny, tiny bit, and leans down to peer a glowing optic in.

Annabelle made a face at first in reaction to the second shot of sudden brighter light. She blinked a few times before making a face  _ at  _ Ironhide, followed by a raspberry sound and a giggly, “Boo!”

Ironhide lets the crate top drop with a clatter, like he’d been spooked by the outburst from the box’s contents. But he’s anything but scared, if his grin is anything to go by. He’s absolutely  _ delighted _ .

Slowly lifting the crate lid once more, hesitant and shy, he peers in again, and huffs out a quiet  _ huh _ . “I think you’ve got the wrong address,” he says, voice teasing. “I didn’t order any organic bitlets.”

“Pbbt!“ Annabelle giggled from in the giant box, grinning up at the face above her. She gave a raspberry, shifting with the bag in her lap, “You can’t order what’s a present grandpa!“ Annabelle pointed out, wiggling to move and sit on her knees. She peered to see if Ironhide was about to drop the lid again, and then moved to stand. Leaving the heavy seeming bag for now and bounced the few feet over to the closer hand. “At least there’s no packing peanuts? Sideswipe wanted to put some in.“

Ironhide lifts the lid fully, letting it fall to the side with a clatter. “A  _ present _ ?” he echoes, arching an optics ridge an amusement. “Think you’re just a  _ bit _ early there, sweetspark. My creation date isn’t for another eight months.” Smiling at the bitlet’s excitement, he gently pokes a large digit in her direction. 

“But good job keeping Sides away from the packing peanuts.” He snorts. “Primus knows that would’ve been a mess.” He pokes at her again. “So what’s this all about?”

“It doesn’t have to be a creation day or birth day to give a present,“ Small arms wrapped around the poking digit, grinning as Annabelle shamelessly used it to help her stand. Clearly in an extra affectionate mood, the girl tugged on Ironhide’s hand, trying to get in a better position to hug him as best she was able.

Remembering what she was doing, Annabelle let go after a moment to lift the bag….and pause. She did not want to open it in the box, that was not good for showing off. Annabelle looked up, trying her very best ‘cute sparkling’ face and chirped out, “Up?”

Ironhide does not reply, just makes a kind of  _ mmf _ noise in his voicebox, but the smile on his faceplates turns fond as the bitlet pulls on his servo. He uses his thumb to brush a few strands of hair out of Annabelle’s face as she hugs him, and almost sighs. Primus, this kid…

Instead, he ends up huffing in laughter at the face she makes when she demands to be picked up. His smile cracking into a full grin, he ever-so-gently scoops the child up in his servo and deposits her outside of the crate before dropping to one knee so he could be face-level with Annabelle. Genuinely curious as to what the child has to show him, he tilts his helm expectantly.

That…was so, so, sooo incredibly tempting… His face was  _ right there _ , when normally so far out if reach. Ironhide better stay there for a hug after this!

“I made you something!” Annabelle said, struggling a bit with the bag, but got it safely to the ground. It was a decent twenty-five pounds and only being active and living near Cybertronians let the girl handle it. Though not for too long. Flopping gracelessly on the floor…erm, table top, Annabelle got out something very shinny.

It was an energon goodie.

A rather interesting mix of colors, painted with a mix of mineral dust-paints. It was either going to be the weirdest combination of tastes or oddly good by the looks. And it was done by Annabella, as evidenced by a hand print or two and lines where small fingered drew the random patterns.

“Well…Sideswipe and Bumblebee did the goodie…I wasn’t aloud to touch until it gelled. But I made the fillling! Kinda. Ratchet and dad made me take a bath, it was just gold and gel.” Annabelle made a face, huffing softly before brightening up and flinging out her arms, “And I painted them! We made a  _ lot _ , but  _ this _ one is for  _ you!” _

Ironhide almost reaches out a servo to help the little girl, but he lets her do it herself. She probably would not appreciate the help, stubborn bitlet she is. So he just watches, helm still tipped to the side, and blinks when she produces the treat. It’s not a very large one, something a mecha Ironhide’s size could easily eat in one sitting, but now he understands why she was struggling so much.

He blinks again, rebooting his optics. “You made that for  _ me _ ?”

Finally reaching out a servo, he pokes at it. Energon goodies are kind of a lost art form; they take quite a bit of time, skill, and resources to make, and during the war it was simply easier and less time-consuming to drink refined energon instead. Sideswipe used to like making them, whenever they had the  _ resources _ to, but Ironhide had not known  _ Bumblebee _ knew how to make something like this.

It does not surprise him that Annabelle had wanted in on it. And the fact she had made one specifically for him makes his spark warm in love and affection, no matter how questionable the treat’s taste might end up being.

“It was because of the energon,” he adds, still looking at the treat. “They just didn’t want you to get sick from it, sweetspark.” _Gold-flavored_ … he looks back at the bitlet. “Thank you, Annabelle. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

The girl nodded excitedly, almost vibrating now from first excitement, and then a small puff of pride at what Ironhide said. She scooted it closer to the mech as best as she was able. “You don’t have to eat it right now, and we have others. But I don’t like eating all my treats right away sometimes, so...um… yeah.”

Annabelle trailed off, sheepish.

Then the temptation got too much and before Ironhide could get up or move away she scooted right over and hoped up. Get a snuggling soft human-sparkling against the side of your face Ironhide.

Ironhide cannot help the huff of laughter that escapes him at Annabelle’s shy stammering. He tips his helm, field rippling in fond amusement. “I can’t wait to try it,” he reassures her. He lifts a servo up to the worktop to pull the energon treat towards him, only to freeze when he suddenly has a human bitlet attached to the side of his face.

It takes Ironhide a moment to catch up, but when he does, he laughs again. He moves his servo to cup her against his faceplates, giving her a one-handed hug, and offlines his optics with a purr-like rumble. Such a sweetspark.

How did Ironhide get so lucky to have this little girl in his life?

Annabelle relaxed completely, a happy ball of positive energy in the big black mech’s field. For a quiet moment she snuggled, Annabelle rubbing her cheek against a smooth spot of living metal near the scar.

Her own eyes closed for the peaceful moment. Or minute. When she moved it was to rest her forehead against Ironhide’s, and then gave him a small human style kiss. “I love you grandpa.” It was softly spoken, with feeling behind it. “Don’t forget you’re supposed to keep safe too, not just keeping dad and everyone else safe.”

Ironhide is perfectly content to remain as he is, holding the bitlet close as he continues to rumble happily deep in his voicebox. He reactivates his good optic when she moves away a bit, and it brightens at the kiss. Chuckling, he shakes his helm a little, not enough to push Annabelle away but enough to get his fondness across.

“What brought that on?” he asks, a bit teasingly. More serious, he adds, “Don’t worry, little one. Nothing’s going to happen to me.

“I love you too, Belle.”

“You’re so taaaaallll,“ The girl complained, she did not get to be near Ironhide’s head as often as riding on his hand for example. Annabelle frowns a moment, clearly worried about the clearly older and well able mech. 

Why? Who knew and she wasn’t saying why right then, but rested her head a moment more on the side of the mech’s face. Poking lightly and then running a hand over part of his scar. She frowned again, and moved to frown up at the mech’s good optic. “Promise to be safe?”

Had she been over hearing things?

Or finally old enough to grasp what the mechs fighting Decepticons really meant?

Giving another huff, enough to ruffle the bitlet’s hair, Ironhide tilts his helm a bit, just enough to get a better look at Annabelle with his good optic. “Nothing I can do about it,” he teases. “Maybe you’re just so small.”

He twitches a little when she touches the scars, just minutely. The sensors are pretty much dead there so he can’t feel much, but it’s still an odd sensation. Not unpleasant, but…  _ odd _ .

He doesn’t answer right away. Obviously this means something to Anabelle. Her words are heavy, despite her age, and for a moment it makes Ironhide’s spark heavy as well. He doesn’t promise things easily, even jokingly, and this–this is something almost impossible to guarantee.

Ironhide’s days have always been numbered. Primus knows how he’s lasted  _ this _ long.

“I’ll try,” he finally says. “I promise. I’ll  _ try _ .”

That seemed to do it, Annabelle relaxed some of the tension in her shoulders. Not realizing she had been tensed up.

“Good, trying is better than not trying.” Annabelle leaned against Ironhide’s face again for a peaceful moment. Then the girl perked back up to give him a kiss, “Can you help me give Ratchet his goodie? I want to make a  _ giant _ box for it!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Queen’s note: Co-Written with Mags, DeconstructedIronhide here on Ao3 and plays Ironhide on tumblr [x-de-con-struct-ed-x I play Annabelle Sunshinedbells]. GO LOOK at their art, their hide, and send lots and lots of loves. =3


End file.
